


Speaking the Language

by bookfairy_writes



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookfairy_writes/pseuds/bookfairy_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly a Reid-centric fic. Trying to make it a casefic but also introduce some OCs and we'll see how it goes. Marked Teen and Up because I'm still not sure how graphic it's going to get. They investigate serial killers. It's not exactly G-rated material.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interests

On the jet back from another solved case, Derek Morgan glanced over to see Reid with his nose buried in a book. The surprising thing was, it wasn't a classic. It wasn't a textbook. It appeared to have been printed in the last ten years and in English no less. Tilting his head to read the title, Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend.

"You're reading A Game of Thrones?"

"A reprint of it," Reid responded, turning a page. "The original came out in 1996, but I was assured there hadn't been any changes except in cover art."

"What, you finally read everything published before the 1990s?"

Reid turned another page and shoot him a perplexed glance.

"Morgan even if I had time to read that many books, there are plenty not worth reading and even if I excluded those, it would take several lifetimes to catch up."

"They have a show based on those books, you know."

"I know." 

Page turn.

"You know about a TV show. Have you finally decided to join us in the modern era and get a TV?"

"No, it says it on the back."

Morgan leaned in a little closer to see "Now an HBO Original Series!" on the back of the book underneath the summary.

Page turn.

"Reid, this is the newest book I've ever seen you read other than Rossi's books or something that looks like it's a textbook. What gives?"

"I was told that my impressions of popular culture were tremendously out of date."

Page turn.

"We've been telling you that for years."

"The books have an author-created language."

Page turn.

"So do lots of books."

"Morgan, you're really slowing down my reading speed and I want to finish this by the time we land."

"That book looks like it's a thousand pages long."

"Eight hundred and thirty five."

Page turn.

"All right, Mr. Genius. Don't let me slow down the geek train."

When they landed, Reid had finished the book and was making notes on a legal pad which he stowed in his bag as they departed.

"This was a good day," Hotch told the team as they began to gather their things and head towards the front of the jet. "Go home, get some sleep. I don't want to see any of you until tomorrow morning."

JJ smiled and elbowed Morgan.

"Looks like a full night's sleep for me."

Morgan chuckled, looking at his watch.

"The night is still young. I might go out for a drink before I get home....Reid, you wanna join me? I'm asking Garcia."

"No, there's four more books still."

"Reid...you can catch up on modern literature later. Come out for a drink with us."

"No, that's okay. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

 

It was unsurprising that by the next case he had finished the series, but was surprising to Garcia, who stopped by his desk on the way to her office, that he is studying a Latin textbook.

"Interesting choice in reading material...I thought Morgan said you were reading all the Game of Thrones books?"

"I finished them."

"If you need some other recommendations, I have a few," she offered with a bright smile. "You don't have to resort to dead languages."

"Thanks Garcia," he sounded distracted momentarily before looking up to smile back. "But dead languages are sort of what I'm looking for right now."

Nodding slowly, a hint of amusement in her eyes, Garcia turned and immediately ran into Derek Morgan.

"Good morning, Lil' Mama."

"I'll show _you_ a good morning, hot stuff."

They both laughed and went their separate ways, leaving the office relatively quiet until JJ came in cradling a stack of manila folders.

"We've got a case."

Reid shut his book, Morgan looked up from his coffee, and both stood up, moving in the direction of the conference room.

 

Another case, another UnSub, another pile of victims and group of mourning survivors were all left behind as the team boarded the plane. It was late, past midnight, but they fly out anyway, most of the team dozing off in their seats to the low hum of the engines. When Hotch cracked an eye open to check on his team, he found them drifting off....except for Reid. 

He managed a sleepy smile before calling the doctor's name softly, as to not wake anyone.

"Reid?"

The younger man looked up from his phone, where his thumbs tapped the keys in rapid succession.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine...why?"

"You're on a plane full of sleeping people in the middle of the night and you're...texting?"

"You're not asleep," Reid pointed out.

"Give me a few minutes. I'm sure whoever they are, they won't mind waiting until morning."

"I'll mind."

Hotch waited for the texting to cease before he raised an eyebrow at Reid.

"And now you'll get a some rest?"

Leaning back, Reid closed his eyes. He was asleep within moments.


	2. Cell Phone Use

"What is it about basements?" Morgan asked, rubbing his head as he offered JJ a hand to climb out of the cellar. "Of all the places you could hide out, why do unsubs choose basements?"  
"Statistically speaking," Reid began, but JJ shot him a look.  
"It's just..." Morgan shuddered "Creepy."  
"We've seen mutilated bodies and basements creep you out?" Reid sounded perplexed.  
"Reid, you're scared of the dark."  
"Which is completely reasonable."  
The conversation continued all the way back to the hotel.  
"Wheels up?" JJ asked Hotch, who was waiting in the lobby for them. Rossi, who stood beside him, shook his head.  
"It's been a long week and there's a storm blowing through between us and home. Wheels up tomorrow morning, probably after nine. It's supposed to clear up by then."  
While relief spread across most of the team's faces, Reid dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone.  
"Anyone up for a movie? Might as well take advantage of the pay per view." Morgan pulled a grin and both JJ and Kate grinned back.  
"We're going to rom-com and popcorn tonight. If you're ready for all that estrogen, feel free to join." Kate responded.  
"I can dig it. Reid?"  
"I need to make a phone call first," Reid said. "What's a rom com?"  
"Oh god this man needs educating," Kate groaned. "JJ, to the TV guide."  
The ladies climbed aboard the elevator followed by Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi. After it had closed, Reid dialed a number on his cell phone and waited until the other end picked up.

 

When Reid got to JJ's room, most of the team was settled with bags of microwave popcorn.  
"Important phone call, Reid?" Morgan asked. "Who needs a genius at 10 at night on a Thursday?"  
"Just another doctor," Reid said vaguely, "There's a journal article I'm supposed to get ahead of time."  
"Reid......it's a weeknight. We just caught a murderer. Sit down, eat some popcorn, and turn that big brain off for a little while, okay?"

 Through the movie, Reid was silent, occasionally laughing but mostly just watching. When it was over, he turned to JJ.

"This is what women want out of a relationship?"

She laughed and Kate smiled.

"It's just a movie, Reid. Some of it, the flowers, the romantic dates, that's nice. Not the jealousy and the having to choose between people."

"I mean a figured that jealousy wasn't the desired quality in a relationship, but it all seemed so....I don't know, unrealistic."

"That's why it's funny. It's where the comedy comes in," Kate added, tossing a piece of popcorn at him.

"If you've got any questions about women, just ask me." Morgan flashed him a smile and JJ snorted.

"And if you want answers that will actually get you somewhere, ask me or Kate," she countered.

"Thanks guys. Hey I'm going to go to bed."

"Wait for me, man," Morgan said, standing. "We can leave the ladies to their girl talk."

 

The plane ride home was unusually active--everyone had slept a full night and paperwork had been mostly completed while waiting for the flight, which had been delayed. Rossi and Hotch played cards with Morgan and Kate while JJ read a book. Reid was once again, texting. 

"If you're not careful, you're going to turn into a teenage girl."

Reid looked up from his phone.

"What?"

"All the texting, the phone calls, maybe you'll start watching some more of those rom-coms with the girls?" Morgan laughed.

Rossi elbowed him.

"Are you going to play or tease Reid?"

 "Right, sorry."

"Don't apologize to me...you just lost this hand."

"Damn, Rossi. Take advantage of my distraction."

"Don't get distracted then."

Reid pocketed his phone, looking self-conscious, and spent the rest of the flight reading.

 

After Reid left for home, Morgan stopped JJ and Kate, motioning them over.

"Reid's been weird lately, all the texts and calls...you think maybe he's got a girlfriend?"

"I don't know Morgan..." JJ sounded reluctant. "After Maeve...I don't know how long he would take to see someone else. And even if he did, I don't know if he'll want to talk about it. The way things ended before...he's probably scared."

"Maeve?" Kate asked.

"I'll explain it over coffee if you want to grab lunch."

"Yeah, all right."

"What, no invitation?" Morgan joked.

"That would mean standing me up, hot stuff. And no one stands up Baby Girl."

Morgan laughed.

"All right Lil' Mama, I know better than that. Where do you wanna go?"

"Somewhere...delicious."

"Let me guess. I'm buying?"

"It's your turn."

 


	3. The Case

The team was already assembled in the conference room when Reid arrives, looking slightly more dressed up, his shoes shining with polish and a jacket over his shirt and tie.

"Damn Reid, come from a hot date?" Morgan asked.

"There was a dinner and lecture at the local college by a physicist. It was semi-formal dress."

"Is that why you have lipstick on your cheek?"

Reid looked baffled and rubbed his cheek.

"I don't know how it would have gotten there."

"All right my pretties," Garcia interrupted. "We've got a particularly puzzling icky person--I could have alliterated that the rest of the way if I wanted to--in Pennsylvania. About 45 minutes from Pittsburgh and it's not pretty. We have a beheading...what looks like death from starvation, and recently this washed up in the harbor."

She clicked her remote and a tattered burlap sack appeared onscreen over a damaged black plastic trash bag. Inside the bag was a body, waterlogged and swollen, but on its back were the distinct marks of a whip.

"At first the police thought it was a series of coincidences, but then the M.E. noticed these..."

She clicked the remote three times and three photos popped up, each with a scroll of paper unrolled to reveal strange writing.

"It's a signature," Hotch said. "Do they know what they say?"  
"Well it's hard to tell because of the damage, but it appears that they are all the same word...whatever it is. They're calling in a linguist from the University of Pittsburgh to take a look at it."

"All right, everyone will have the case details on their tablets in the next few minutes. It's not too far so we'll be driving. Be ready to go in an hour."

The team stood and filed out of the room, but Reid paused, studying the pictures of the paper scraps.

"Garcia, can you send me the sharpest versions of those?"

"Sure can, genius man. Anything else?"

"No just...something about them bothers me and I can't figure out what it is."

 

Reid rode in the back of the black SUV while Morgan and JJ chatted about their lives. Back in his usual ensemble, Reid slouched against the door and stared out the window, deep in thought.

"What about you, Reid?" JJ asked and he sat up, bringing himself back to the present.

"What?"

"A little spaced out, huh? We're talking about what's happening with us lately. Morgan said one of his properties is ready to sell and Henry's birthday is coming up. Anything new with you?"

"Yeah, you've been talking to a lot of professor-types recently," Morgan chimed in. Getting another doctorate?"

"No, not right now. There have just been some really good lectures recently."

"I remember you were talking about the one about language patterns of serial offenders and people with sociopathic tendencies what...like 5 months ago? And then there was that other one on profiling using the brands and products people buy. And these last ones have been....some kind of high-level science?"

Reid looked surprised.

"I didn't know you guys were paying attention when I talked about the lectures. I thought you were just being polite."

Morgan chuckled, "We were, mostly. But you've been doing more of that kind of thing recently so we keep track. The next one on our level, you should invite us."

"Theoretical physics is--" 

"--over my head," Moran interrupted. "But if something cool comes into town, let us know."

"Define cool," Reid said, and JJ smiled.

"If you don't have to explain any of the words in the name of the lecture to us or it's not about physics would both be good starting points."

 "I was thinking of getting Henry a science kit for his birthday."  
"Reid, he'd love that! Can you run it by me first though? I don't want to give him anything too extreme...or something he could burn the house down with."

"Statistically, most house fires are caused by cooking incidents."

"Which is one of the reasons he can't touch the stove."

"I'll see if I can pick out something developmentally appropriate."

"Thanks, Spence. He wants a space theme for his party, I think."

"Well maybe a telescope would be a better gift. They make them for kids now too so they're more durable."

"He'd really like that. He still loves his Goodnight Baby Star book."

The conversation ebbed and flowed naturally from there, touching some more on Henry and what toys Morgan and Reid had liked at that age and then moving on to space and the upcoming meteor shower the following month. After that they somehow moved on to Kate and how she was fitting in with the team and from there into a variety of other mundane topics that kept the trip pleasant. Once they were closer, JJ skimmed the file of contacts, making notes on which had replied to her and who was in charge of handling media and so forth. Ried dozed, already having read the file, and when the car stopped, he started, shaking himself out of the light slumber he had fallen into.

"Let's see what they have and then we'll split up."

The team nodded, following Hotch into the police building where a burly woman met them, silver studs winking in her ears against curly black hair. She extended her hand to Hotch, then the rest of the team members in turn.

"Maria Gomez, Chief of Police. Thank you all for coming. We've got a room set up like you asked with all the boards and files."

"Thank you, I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner and this SSA David Rossi. On our team we have agents Morgan, Jareau, Callahan, and Dr. Reid."

"Pleasure. I imagine you're never called in for anything pleasant, but we can't wrap our heads around this one. The bodies weren't anything out of the ordinary--Pittsburgh has its fair share of crime and we're close enough to get the tail end of it--but when Bronsen found the paper in the second body's mouth we were suspicious. By the time the third one came in it was well past time to call you."

"Are all their cases still open?"

"The second one, Jason Elliot, was in a gang so we thought it might have been related but the first victim was a volunteer at two different soup kitchens and a mentor in the Big Brother/Big Sister program and we're still ID-ing the third. We're running the DNA and his prints, but he's not in the system as far as we can tell. I've got a deputy going through missing persons for the last month or so to see if he resembles anyone but no luck so far."

"All right we'll see what we can do from here. Agent Jareau will be talking to you about handling the media and getting the family members of previous victims in for questioning. Rossi, can you and Callahan go talk to the M.E. while Morgan and Reid go to the disposal sites? JJ, also get Garcia hooked in with the search; she should be able to speed things along."

A variety of affirmative responses and then the team was dispersed to their respective duties. Hotch remained talking with the chief for awhile before entering the room set aside for his team and pinning up photos and files on the board by victim, writing down relevant information on a white board. 


	4. Language

"Agent Hotchner, this is Andros Gutzman, professor of language at the University of Pittsburgh."

Standing in Chief Gomez's office, Hotch shook the man's hand, smiling. He and the chief had discussed the amount of disclosure that the professor would be receiving about the origins of the papers, and decided jointly that minimal to no background information would be given. All he needed to know was that the papers were found after a body was discovered and that they hoped that finding out what they said could help identify the victim.

"I have never worked with the police before," the professor pinched the end of his graying mustache and looked around the room at the various pictures that Chief Gomez had on her wall--outreach program participation, a prize for a shooting competition, pictures with classes from elementary schools holding slogans like "Be Safe!" and "We Are Good Citizens!"--as well as a print of a Georgia O'Keefe painting.

"Well we've never had a linguist come in to help us, so there's a first time for everything," Chief Gomez smiled and produced the three scrolls of paper in their respective evidence bags.

"Do you have a magnifying glass? I think it is Latin, but the handwriting is atrocious. If one of my students turned this in, I would take points off."

Digging into her drawer, the chief handed him a magnifying glass that looked fairly old, the lens a little scratched and the handle dented in two places.

"Yes, it is Latin. I'm afraid it isn't going to be helpful in identifying him, though."

"What does it say?"

"Pro patria potestas. If you're just translating it directly it's 'for the country power' or 'for the country's power'. Between the handwriting and the fact that he wrote it out three times, maybe he was studying for a latin test?"

"Why do you say he?" Hotch asked.

"The handwriting. Don't get me wrong, women can have messy handwriting but this looks like a man's handwriting to me."

"Thank you professor,"

"Just let me know if I can help any other way."

"We certainly will. Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?" Chief Gomez walked with him towards the break room, chatting amiably about the week's pleasant warm spell as Hotch texted the team.

_The professor says it means 'for the country's power.' We need to take another look at the victims._

Reid looked at Morgan, repeating the meaning aloud.

"For the country's power? That makes no sense. There are no indicators that this guy is patriotic in any way. The only thing we know is that he's trying out a a variety of murder styles."

"Maybe he's sampling the wares?" Morgan suggested, "Trying to figure out what he likes?"

"Yeah maybe...hang on I'm going to send these photos to another linguist I know. Maybe a second opinion would help."

"That'd be good. Walk through this with me. I'm the unsub. I've got this body and of all the places I can stash it, I put it maybe a thousand feet from the highway. Somebody must have noticed something funny. Even if I pull off the road here, there's just a field. If I was driving by I'd notice someone out here with a car on the side of the road. Maybe I'd think they broke down."

"Someone could have stopped, but you're right. I'll call Hotch and see if we can get a tip line up."

"Sounds good. You ready to go to the next site?"

"Yeah. The harbor isn't much good though, it'd been in the water for at least a week and the way the bag was torn, it was tossed around pretty well. I'll have to check the weather and tide charts from around when the body was discovered and see if I can find which currents might have carried him in."

"I'll ask Garcia; she can check the weather satellites and pull some data."

Reid nodded and waited for Hotch's voice on the other end.

"Hotch, can you ask the police department to set up a tip line? Morgan and I are looking at this and there's a pretty high likelihood someone saw him moving the body, even if they didn't know that's what he was doing. We're not at the next site yet, but if it's this close to the road as well, someone might have seen him then too."

"I'll have JJ set it up, thanks Reid. Oh and Reid."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure about this translation. Maybe you can take a look when you get back."

"I know a linguist so I sent the photos without giving out any case information. I thought a second opinion might be helpful."

 

 

~In a coffee shop a few miles away from Quantico, an email blipped on linguist Dr. Peterson's computer. Clicking it open, she inspected the .jpg files attached before skimming the message.

"For the country's power?" she muttered to herself, looking back up to the pictures and then to the message. Saving the files to her desktop, she typed back a quick response and hit 'send' before closing her laptop and standing, setting the ceramic mug on the counter and tucking a couple dollars under it.

"Thanks," she called to the barista who was currently making some form of latte art. The barista nodded her thanks as the bell on the door rang, announcing Dr. Peterson's exit.~

 

 

Back in the car, Reid's tablet made an electronic bing and he tapped the screen. 

_It's a straightforward translation, but let me print these out so I can look at them closer and be sure. I'll let you know._

"Already?" Morgan asked.

"She'll get back to me."

"All right, did you tell her it was important?"

"I said it was for work and she knows I work for the FBI so...I think it was implied."

"Gotcha. Now let's see...the next dump site is also along a main road so let's see if there's the same degree of visibility there."

"He didn't even bury the bodies, but he also didn't leave them out in plain view. He's probably using the sites because they're convenient. These are both large roads that go to Pittsburgh...maybe he works there." Reid said as he watched a few cars zoom by.

"Most of his victims are male and in late teens to early twenties. None of them are over two hundred pounds, but even then, that's a lot of dead weight. He's got to have some muscle on him."

"It's rained since the body was dumped, but if he dragged the body or even put it in a wheelbarrow or on a hand truck, that would be easier to manage. Is this public land?"

"This section is maintained by the local Presbyterian church. There's an adopt-a-highway sign about a mile back that has the name on it."

"Maybe he's a member of the church? No one would think it was odd if the church was out doing highway cleanup. It's their section."

Morgan nodded, hitting speed dial on his phone.

"Office of Brilliance and Sexy, how might I make your life better?"

Morgan chuckled,

"Hey Garcia, the unsub might be a parishioner at the Presbyterian church that's adopted this part of the highway. Can you contact the pastor and see if you can get a list of the parishioners?"

"Can do, my chocolate prince. Anything else?"

"Just try and keep all that sexy brilliance in the office."

"There is no containing it, but for you I will try."

"Thank you."

 

 

 

 


	5. Sites

Hitting the 'end' button, Morgan looked over at Reid.

"Maybe it's a religious thing?"

"If he's speaking of a promised country, maybe. The writing did say 'for the country's power'. But there's nothing else to support that theory. Convenient dump sites, no signs of remorse, just three bodies with three very different ways of dying."

"If the body had been in the water longer than a week, it's possible that it wasn't the third body...it might be the second. There might be others in the water right now. Did the chief say whether or not they'd combed the harbor for any more bodies?"

"She didn't. Rossi and Kate are in the M.E.'s office, ask if they have more specific time of death or how long he was in the water."

Ried dialed Rossi's number and waited until he picked up, explaining the situation.

"Reid might be onto something," Rossi said. "When we finish talking to the ME, I'll call you back."

"Thanks Rossi."

The second dump site was similar to the first, off of a major highway, slightly out of sight of the main road, and this time, over a small hill. The section of highway was open for adoption, and the roped off place where the body had been discovered was muddy, still a little damp from the rain two nights previous. 

"I think we've got all we can here, " Morgan said. "Let's head back to the conference room and you can do your map stuff."

"Yeah, okay."

Reid appeared to be deep in thought and nearly slipped in the mud, catching himself in time to avoid a mud mask. Morgan put an arm out, steadying him.

"You okay, pretty boy?"

"Yeah, just thinking. Something is bothering me about this, but I can't figure out what."

"You will."

Reid nodded, scratching the back of his head before climbing once more into the passenger seat before looking towards the window. Morgan got the feeling he wasn't seeing any of the passing cars, the scenery, or anything else on the opposite side of the glass. He was in genius-boy mode, and that often meant that the rest of the world was shut off to allow him to think.

 

 

In the station, Reid drew lines on the projected map, making circles here and there. 

"The two body dump sites are here, along Route One and I-95 and where the third body was found is circled in blue, because it was dumped somewhere else and carried into the Port of Philadelphia by the Delaware river. Based on the first two dump locations and assuming that he travels along these roads regularly, this is the area in which he most likely lives. It includes, as you'll notice, as far as Trenton, New Jersey. With the Delaware River easily accessible, he could live farther from the river and make a stop there on his way home from work."

The sheriff frowned at the map.

"That's a lot of land to cover."

"I'll be able to narrow it down further when we get more information."

She nodded and left, leaving Reid to several charts of the currents in the Delaware River over the past several days. Scrambling for a marker, he found a blank space on the whiteboard and wrote down the dates of the week before the body was discovered in the river. Beginning the day of the discover, he marked the area which the body could have hypothetically traveled (including cross-current) in the span of that day. Repeating this method, he did so for each day previous, tracking the area of likely disposal by day up along the river. Along the way he made marks by bridges and boating docks, places something could be dropped into the river without much notice. 

"Four days, the ME estimated he'd been in the water," Rossi remarked as he walked into the room. Reid checked the map and carefully erased his other projections, shading in the area along the river that was likely (within a certain limit) to have been a dump site based on the number of days the body had been victim to the currents of the river.

"The cement factory is in that zone. Why not tie down the body? Why let it float in the bag? There's cement readily available."

"Good question," Rossi replied, studying the map. "How long have you been at this?"

"Not too long." Reid glanced at his watch and hesitated "Longer than I thought."

"We'll have some food brought in, okay kid?"

"Yeah, thanks." 

Distracted again by the geographical profile, Reid barely heard him.

 

 

After passing Chinese takeout containers around and around a conference room table while tossing out ideas and theories, making connections and drawing lines on the whiteboard, the team remained in the conference room. Some sat, some paced. Rossi finally stood, knocking on the table to gain the team's attention. 

"We need sleep," he announced. "I'll tell the chief that we're going to get some rest and some back first thing in the morning."

No one bothered to protest, only gathered up folders, papers, phones and computers. There would be very little sleep had, unsurprisingly. One or two hours perhaps. The time would be spent working. Together, the team piled into the SUVs, checked into the hotel, rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. Seperating into pairs, they vanished into three rooms side-by-side and each agent spread his or her files onto one of the two queen beds in the room, onto counters and dressers and the nightstand. Reid taped up papers and map onto the wall. JJ sorted through files. Morgan paced as he read. 

It was perhaps one thirty in the morning when Reid checked his cell phone and slipped out the door into the hall, dialing as he went. 

Morgan waited no more than sixty seconds before stepping into the hall, patting his wallet as he did. Lightly, he tapped on the doors to rooms 513 and 515, the room JJ and Kate shared and the one Rossi and Hotch did. 

"I'm hitting the drink machine down the hall, anybody want something?"

Hotch and Rossi declined, while JJ asked for a cola and Kate asked for something lemon-lime, regardless of brand. Kate handed him a dollar fifty, and as Morgan strolled down the hall towards the drink machines and the ice maker. He could hear Reid's voice coming from nearby, though it was soft, and when he passed the entrance to the stairwell, he caught a glimpse of a figure though the narrow window. It was Reid sitting on the steps, his back to the door. His voice, though careful not to be too loud, was audible and Morgan paused just past the door, fiddling with the dollar fifty he had been handed. 

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Reid said. "I'm glad I caught you, I thought you might be asleep."

The response on the other line elicited a soft chuckle on his part.

"I know. Any luck with the translation?"

Morgan walked on to the drink machine and took his time buying two colas and the only lemon-lime drink in the machine. On his way back to the room he paused again, listening for a moment to Reid's phone call.

"No, it's not normal for the unsub to kill them in different ways..." a pause for the voice on the other line to respond. "You told me not to tell you specifics. You said they made you feel nauseous. Well yes, it's linked to the writing. Fine. Starvation, beheading, and a bag into the river, drowning."

Leaving Reid to his conversation, Morgan stopped into JJ and Kate's room to deliver sodas and compare findings. They spoke for a long while, poking holes in theories and making new ones, but after another hour, every eyelid was heavy and Morgan excused himself. In his and Reid's room he found the younger agent asleep already on his bed, papers spread in his lap. Gathering them up, Morgan shook his friend gently.

"Your neck is going to kill you in the morning if you sleep like that. Lie down."  
Nodding drowsily, Reid toed off his shoes and slipped beneath the covers. Morgan turned down the blankets on his own bed and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers before also falling into bed. His last clear recollection before sleep overtook him was reaching over and turning off the light.


	6. Pro Patria Potestas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another victim is discovered, Garcia and Reid's linguist friend both get some information that could make the profile a lot more clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to the Encyclopedia Brittanica, where I did my research on this particular aspect of Roman law!

"Have some coffee with that sugar, Reid."

Morgan took the sugar from the younger agent, spooned a little into the plastic hotel mug, and drank, grimacing at the taste.

"On second thought, you might have the right idea."

"Has Hotch texted you yet?"

"No, but it's only six in the morning," Morgan replied. "Do you want to shower or can I take it?"

"No, go ahead." Reid swallowed another mouthful of overly sugared coffee. "It'll only make me feel more tired, and I'm not taking a cold shower. That's what coffee is for."

"Suit yourself."

Pouring himself another cup of terrible coffee, Reid grimaced and glanced at the list of hotel amenities. Pulling on a fresh set of clothes, he gathered up his files and pocketed his cell phone, checking again to see if Hotch had texted him. Nothing. He tapped on the door to the bathroom.

"Hey Morgan, there's breakfast downstairs. I'll see you down there when you're done."

"Got it."

In the lobby area, one section was devoted to breakfast, steam tables along one wall and along the other, bowls of miniature cereal boxes, fruit, and various pastries and breads. JJ and Kate were already sharing a table, looking at files while drinking hotel coffee.

"Any good?" Reid asked, setting his pile of folders down on the table.

"The eggs aren't bad," Kate remarked. "But if I were you, I'd stick to the doughnuts and coffee."

"Fruit's fresh," JJ added absentmindedly. 

 

 

When Morgan and the senior agents joined them, they came bearing news.

"They found another body," Hotch said quietly, as to not alert the other diners. Almost immediately, the TV began to run a breaking news story about a body found in the port by a fisherman. A man in a tie announced an interview with the man who discovered it as the screen changed to reveal an older black man with a creased face standing on a dock.

"I thought it was trash," the fisherman said, a microphone held too close to his mouth. "But you don't want the fish eating that, so I pulled it up, cut it open. And there's a man in there, and a snake."

"A snake?" the reporter interrupted.

"Yes ma'am, I don't know what sort of things people are getting up to these days, but that was a snake in there with the dead man."

"As you can see," Hotch told them, "The media got ahold of the story already. JJ, I'm going to need you to start managing that right away. Just see if they'll stop airing the story. We've got to get to the station now, before things start getting out of hand."

"Right."

Morgan snagged a doughnut and a coffee on the way out, tossing Reid the keys so he could drive. On the way to the station, his phone began to ring. 

"Do you want me to get that?" Morgan asked.

"It's in my pocket, hang on." With one hand on the wheel, he fished the phone out of his pocket and after reading the caller ID, put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

From the phone, Morgan and the other parties in the car could hear rapid-fire speech. 

"Hang on, say that again?"

The voice on the other end once again fired off an explanation.

"I'll call you back when we get to the station. Email me everything you've got."

Another response.

"Bye."

 "What was all that about?"

"The linguist I consulted was searching for news coverage on the case and saw the story this morning. She thinks she has a breakthrough."

"Oh?"

Reid was prevented from interrupting when Morgan's phone rang.

"Hey Garcia, this is early for you."

"The snake was the icing on the cake. All of the methods of killing here were punishments used in ancient Rome."

"Ancient Rome?"

"For patricide."

"Did you tell Hotch?"

"I wanted to fill you in. Tell Reid that his linguist friend might need to know that we're talking ancient Rome here. It might help."

"Thanks Garcia, you're a star."

"I know."

Hanging up, he looked over at Reid, who was concentrating on pulling into the station parking lot, avoiding a poorly-parked squad car.

"Patricide, is that what your friend was going to say?"

Reid nodded, angling the SUV into the portion of parking space not occupied by a police car.

"She thinks she has a lead."

"Did she mention patricide?"

"No, but that makes everything clearer. She found an alternate translation."

 "I thought the guy who came in translated it?"

"Dr. Peterson has a specialty in Latin language and culture, or she did for one of her degrees."

"Another genius huh?" Morgan asked as they got out of the car.

"Not exactly," Reid said, wincing a little. "She's very intelligent, but I don't know her IQ."

Through the parking lot, the offices, and into the conference room, the team moved in one unit, each consulting notes and checking the time in eerie synchronization. Once before the board, Morgan but Garcia on the phone and had her explain the link between the murder methods and the various (interesting and icky) Ancient Roman ways of executing people who killed their fathers.

"Thanks Garcia," Hotch responded, "Can you look for murders in the past that match these MO's? He might have started this recently, but he'd have to practice. And start looking for records of snakes purchased from pet shops in the past week."

"Back in a flash."

"Reid, get your linguist on please," Hotch directed and Reid did, announcing as the doctor picked up that she was on speaker with the team.

"Just tell them what you were telling me about the translation," Reid said.

"All right, well patria potestas was a section of Roman law, the family law specifically. Patria potestas means "power of the father" and it dictated that the male head of household was not only in charge of the family, he had complete legal control of the members. Before the classical times, this could mean that the father was allowed to inflict capital punishment on his children if he thought it necessary, take their wages, and legally control whatever aspects of their lives he chose. Until he died, or in the case of a daughter, marriage, this power was still held over the family regardless of the age of its members. All property of the family members legally belonged to the father, even if they acquired it on their own."

"So pro patria potestas doesn't mean "for the country's power, it means--"

"For the power of the father, essentially. The translation has a heavier legal connotation, but yes."

"Thank you, doctor..." Hotch began,

"Peterson," Reid and Dr. Peterson said at the same time.

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Peterson."

"My pleasure."

Pressing a button, Hotch terminated the call and looked at the team.

"We need to go over everything again in this light. Garcia will dig into the victims' pasts, the rest of you split up and talk to the family members and friends. Ask about their fathers. We need to know everything we can about this before we give out the profile."

Lifting his phone to his ear, he spoke again.

"Garcia, I need to know about the victims' fathers. I want to know how controlling they were. Look for conditions on trust funds, strict numbers of hours worked by children, any evidence of abuse to the wife or children. I want everything you can find."

He nodded at her response and hung up.

"I'll be reworking the board, send me information as you get it. JJ, stay a minute, we might need to spin the press conference differently than we originally planned."

The remaining team members clustered into pairs and headed back to the parking lot.

 

 


	7. Insights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the search for the UNSUB continues, Garcia makes a few interesting discoveries.

"Nothing from any of the fathers of the victims, sir. We have one instance of unusual hospitalization, but it was for malnourishment. He was in a foster home."

"Nothing like that. All right, Garcia, take a look at men 40s and up who have living children and a criminal record of any kind."

There was a long pause, a series of clicks and the clattering of Garcia's long nails on her multiple keyboards.

"I am looking at a long list of 'Father of the Year' rejects, but I need more information to go on."

"Eliminate any families with no sons. The unsub is a male."

A few clicks and then Garcia spoke again.

"Done. It's still a scary-long list, sir."

"The son is currently in his twenties or thirties so eliminate any fathers with children over 35 or under 21. And check for criminal records. Focus on misdemeanors first, outlets for his anger, destruction of property, theft, arson, fighting."

"I'll get back to you, sir."

Hotch terminated the call and studied the map pinned up on the wall, then the list of notes on the whiteboard before turning to look at JJ. 

"Whoever this guy is, he's looking for attention. We need to spin this another way. I don't want to give the unsub a sympathetic audience so focus on the victims. The unsub thinks of himself as a man on a mission, and he'll want us to be on his side. His victims broke the rules, he sees himself serving justice. And get a tip line open."

JJ nodded and made a few notes before going to meet with the police chief. 

Reid and Morgan studied the body on the slab in the morgue, Reid's forehead scrunched in thought.

"Because of the overlap, it's hard to tell, but I'd guess the victim had somewhere around 50 lashes across his back."

"The whip was leather," the ME remarked. "I found traces of it in the wounds."

Reid nodded.

"And have you identified the snake?"

"I'm not a veterinarian, but I'm having one look at it via video in a few minutes."

"How long was he in the water?"

"I'd say more than 12 hours, less than 24."

"This is escalation, the addition of the snake."

A computer beeped in the corner of the room and the ME carried the snake's body over to it on a silver tray, double clicking as she set it down next to a webcam.

"Hey Gene, thanks for taking a look. I know it's a rattler, but there's some debate."

"Zoom in on the head?" the voice from the computer asked. "And now the rattle? Yup, that's a timber rattlesnake. They're protected this time of year, so whoever drowned it is going to have some trouble with the rangers."

"Thanks Gene."

"Anytime. You free for dinner?"

"Not tonight. Rain check?"

"You betcha."

"Did you find any venom in the bites on the body?"

"He was in the water for over 12 hours, so if there was it was washed off pretty quickly, even through the plastic bag. The fisherman who found it cut the bag open, so any evidence preserved in it is long gone. We have techs looking at the bag itself, but so far, not much luck."

"Anything else?"

"He was tied up and gagged, and he's got bruising, which we think is from him being transported to a dump site. Maybe in a trunk or the bed of a truck?"

"All right, thank you," Morgan replied, heading for the door as Reid studied the body for a moment more before following.

 

"Hotchner."

"Sir, I feel like a complete dunce but I was reviewing the victims' families while the computer sorted through the suspect pool and I found something I missed before."

"What was it?"

"Each of the victims' fathers are dead. Victim one's father died in a hit and run, victim two's father was beaten to death, they suspected a local loan shark but couldn't nail him down. Victim three's father died of an infection in the hospital. Once the fourth victim is identified I can run him through as well, but I'd be willing to bet that something happened to his dad."

"Thank you Garcia. Keep me updated."

"Will do, sir."

Hanging up, Hotch pulled out his phone and sent out a text.

_Visit the families and friends of the victims. Ask about the father and how how he died. There's a person that is connected to all four._

In the car, Garcia filled Morgan in on her epiphany and he relayed it to Reid.

"Have her see where the fathers were treated for injuries, or what hospital they were taken to."

"Baby girl, put that pretty head of yours to work with Reid's. I think he's got an idea."

Morgan tossed Reid the phone, who fumbled with it before putting it to his ear.

"Three different hospitals, sorry Reid."

"What about life insurance? Or medical insurance?"

"Let me check....and I've got one...two...three...all three victims were covered by PMI, Pennsylvania Medical Insurance."

"See if their claims were covered by the same case worker?"

"No...different agents but....oh. PMI is currently trying to go green, so they're digitizing all of their records."

"Can you tell who digitized them?"

"Give me a minute. I'm looking at the employee list, the dates of each file digitization, the IP address...got him. Steven Phillips, 28 years old and lives right near the New Jersey border. He works from home."

"Address?"

"Sending it to your phones now. I'll call Hotch."

"Thanks Garcia."

Every agent of Hotch's team had a beeping alert on their phone simultaneously. JJ checked hers as she waited in front of the news cameras for the press conference to begin. Checking her phone, she frowned and turned away from the cameras being set up, the reporters doing microphone checks, the news vans adjusting satellite dishes.

She was about to dial Hotch when he appeared on the side of the stage.

"All set for the press?"

"Yes, I've got everything I need. Any new information you want me to include?"

He shook his head firmly.

"Just stick to what we discussed. I'm hoping he'll be watching."

A moment later, lights were on JJ as she made her statement.

"The FBI is here to assist the local police in investigating four tragic deaths in the area. The families of the victims ask that you respect their privacy. A candlelight vigil will be held to honor the victims tonight at sunset and a fund to donate to the victim's families to assist with funeral costs has been set up."

"Agent, do the FBI suspect a serial killer?"

"What is the FBI doing to prevent another attack?

"What does the snake found this morning with another body have to do with the murders?"

"Do you have any suspects?"

"One at a time please," JJ called authoritatively and reporters shuffled and muttered amongst themselves before one stepped forward, thrusting a microphone towards the podium.

"What is the FBI doing to keep the people of Philadelphia safe?"

 "Right now, we feel it is important to make sure people are remembering to lock their doors and that people aren't going out alone."

Another reporter took the place of the first.

"Does the FBI suspect a serial killer?"

"Right now we are looking at several options."

After fielding several rounds of questions with practiced skill, JJ called the amassed news crews to order.

"If anyone has information on any of the victims, we ask that they come forward. We will have a tip line open 24 hours and the police appreciate any relevant information. Thank you."

Another round of questions were shouted at JJ as she walked out from behind the podium and into the police station. Ignoring them, she returned to the meeting room to await the return of the rest of her team. 

 


	8. Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team closes in on the unsub's home.

Black SUVs with no sirens sped over the highway, several police vehicles alongside. In one SUV, Hotch had a quiet but intense discussion with Rossi about interrogating Steven Phillips, provided he came in with no incident, and in the other, Reid made a phone call. He didn't say hello, just began talking.

"What were punishments for patricide in ancient Rome?"

Morgan could catch the buzz of a voice but not what it said and Reid issued a quick, 'thanks' before hanging up.

"Reid?" the older agent asked. 

"Between the Latin and the method of killing, it's something with Ancient Rome. The way he's been killing them is one of the punishments for a child killing their father. It's one of the more complicated methods which makes me wonder, what did he do before this? He can't have just started with his signature completed. There had to be an experimental phase."

"Yes, but we don't have any bodies."

  
"Philadelphia doesn't. Let me have Garcia check," in a moment he was on his phone again.

"Garcia, check for John Does in New Jersey and Pennsylvania within the past year and a half. Strangulation, starvation, drowning, or a fall from at least two stories."

"Give me a second....okay any other parameters? We have pretty good number of malnourishment deaths, especially among the homeless population."

"Eliminate anyone over 65, he'd see an aging father figure there."

"All right we're left with....three starvations, one strangulation, two falls in the past year. There was a drowning about 6 months ago but he was identified as Peter Ellison, father of 3, and it is a suspected boat accident."

"Can you send the files on the other six to my tablet?"

"Already on it."

"Thanks."

Morgan raised a dark eyebrow.

"Got something?"

"I think we might have found his practice victims."

Morgan made a sharp left turn and nodded. 

"What are the chances he comes quietly?"

Reid perked up.

"You want an actual statistic?"

"Actually, no."

Shrugging, Reid rattled off an approximation anyway and Morgan rolled his eyes. They parked around the block from the house and climbed out of SUVs, strapping on kevlar. 

"Hopefully he'll be watching the press conference, so we'll catch him by surprise but he's convinced that his mission is of the utmost importance and we'll be in the way so keep an eye out. Morgan, pair off with Rossi. Kate, you're with Reid and I. I want the locals to set up a perimeter in case he runs. 

One of the local cops nodded, leaning into her radio to issue orders for roadblocks out of the area and a heads up to any local police in the area.

"Small groups. Empathize with him. His cause is important. We want to take him alive."

The teams split and moved towards the house of suspected serial killer Steven Phillips. Rossi and Morgan moved around to cover the back door and Hotch's group went to the front. Reid reached forward and tried opening the door. It was locked. As Hotch motioned for one of the officers to come forward, a shot rang out.

"Cover this door," Hotch ordered the officer. "Reid, Callahan, with me."

Racing around the house, guns drawn, they streamed in through the back door, checking each direction. 

"Clear," Kate muttered.

"Dave! Morgan!" Hotch shouted.

"We're just talking Hotch," Rossi called back. "It would be best if you waited outside."

"Are you okay? We heard a shot."

"It was all a misunderstanding, isn't that right, Steven?"

There was a mumble from the other room.

"My friends are going to wait outside and we'll talk this out, man to man."

"Come on," the senior agent turned and left through the door they came in, pausing to ensure both his colleagues were following him.

"Hotch, is it a good idea to leave Rossi and Morgan in there?" Kate asked.

"Steven Phillips is a mission-based killer," Reid interjected. "He would see a large group of agents as an assault on him and his mission. If Rossi has it under control, we need to trust him."

"You'll also notice he didn't mention Morgan," Hotch remarked. "It's likely that Morgan is covering him."

 Sure enough, after about ten minutes of silence, a white man with shaggy brown hair dressed in jeans and a polo walked out calmly, hands behind his back as Rossi and Morgan followed.

"Steven has agreed to talk to us about his mission. I explained that our unit specializes in behavior and the reasons people do the things they do and that we wanted to understand him."

"That's great, Dave. Why don't we meet back at the station. We can collect the files we have and start building some new ones around his mission."

Rossi nodded at Hotch and walked companionably beside the suspect, showing him the way to the black SUV they had arrived in.

Morgan shadowed the pair, nodding at Hotch as he passed.

"Let's hope he's as forthcoming in the interrogation room," Callahan muttered and Hotch glanced back.

"We're going to treat him as a guest. If he feels that he is in control of the situation, he'll be more likely to share information."

"I talked to Garcia," Reid said. "We think she's found some of the victims he practiced on. The kills have all been done in the same ways that the ancient Romans punished those convicted of patricide."

"Have her send you all the records she can find on him, I want you to form a theory behind why he's using this method of killing. You and Kate stay here and see what you can figure out. I'll ride with one of the officers back and leave the SUV here."

Reid turned back towards the house before walking to the nearest squad car to put on a pair of latex gloves before returning to the house with Callahan immediately behind. It was time to look into the past.

 


	9. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the home of the unsub, Reid and Callahan make discoveries while in the interrogation room, Rossi makes some headway.

Reid walked through the house with Callahan once, looking over everything as a general observer before returning to the front hall where a small kitchen branched off to one side.

"How would you describe the house?" Reid asked.

"For lack of a better description, spartan," Callahan replied. "No knick-knacks, everything in order, it doesn't even look dusty. The furniture is simple, not luxurious, and where a lot of houses have material objects like exercise equipment, entertainment centers, display cabinets, there's just space. The office is the only room that he seemed to put any of his personality into."

"The office looked most promising," Reid agreed. "Let's start there."

On one wall was a framed family photo, the only photo that either agent had seen thus far. In it stood a mother, a father, and two boys between them. One boy looked about eight, the other four or five, both with light hair and toothy smiles.

"The only photo on display," Callahan lifted it from the wall and examined it more closely. "He has a brother."

Reid jiggled the mouse on the desktop computer and was surprised when it opened to the desktop instead of a password screen.

"I would have thought security would be a higher priority to a killer this organized," he mused and Kate looked back at him.

"He thinks he's doing the right thing here. Why hide your victories?"

"I guess," the doctor frowned. "Still, that's not consistent with the profile."

He began clicking through files as Kate examined the closet. Instead of a bar for hangers there were only shelves covered in books, many of them on history and the Roman Empire. A lower shelf held legal books while another section held used textbooks about computer coding, presumably the unsub's.

"His internet favorites are news sites, several blogs about Roman history, and some crafters...looks like they forge their own weapons out of scrap metal and recreate historic swords in backyard forges."

"Is that even legal?"

"I don't think there are any laws about forging your own weapons, but I can check if you like."

"No, that's not necessary."

"Roman Democracy and the Constitution, Rome Wasn't Built in a Day, The Eternal Rome, this guy looks like he read everything that even mentioned Rome."

"It's in his mind, an ideal society. He seems to be in keeping with many of the values of ancient Rome--cleanliness, discipline, self-control."

"You know the value systems of ancient Rome?"

"I've been doing some research since we found out there was a link."

"Those phone calls were about ancient Rome?"

"I know a specialist."

Callahan grinned at him, momentarily impish,

"You know a lot of specialists?"

"Considering the academic circles I frequent, I know plenty."

Callahan rolled her eyes and sighed before looking back at the bookshelf and pulling a worn-looking binder from the bottom shelf. Opening it, she began flipping through page by page, examining the pages carefully.

"Reid, I found a family photo album." She turned a few pages, "They look happy, normal. There's even a dog in some of these." Flipping a few more pages, she paused. "It looks like it stops abruptly...in the most recent photo, the boys look maybe ten and seven."

The other agent stood from the chair and walked over to crouch next to Callahan and inspect the album.

"Whatever childhood trauma it was, it happened before puberty. I can't tell which one is Steven though...hang on." 

Using her fingernail, she gently lifted a corner of the photograph and pulled it from its protective sleeve. Written in neat black letters on the back read, _Charles, Stephen (10), Daniel (6.5), Martha._

"Stephen is the older one."

"There are no family photos after this point, because something happened to his father. His MO is killing using the forms of punishment that ancient Rome used for those accused of patricide. The pressing question is, is he killing himself or his brother?"

Kate flipped the rest of the empty pages, the plastic and backing paper beginning to yellow slightly with age. In a flap in the album's back cover, a newspaper clipping peeked out, the article's title shouting at the reader: **LOCAL FATHER AND SON KILLED BY SPEEDING TRUCK.**

 

~~~

 

Hotch and Morgan stood in the observation room behind the two-way mirror that shielded them from view of Stephen Phillips. Rossi and the unsub were having a civil conversation thus far, about the importance of a father figure in a child's life, of honor and respect among family members, and how the people they found killed were murderers that justice overlooked. Despite his passion for his mission, he hadn't yet said anything incriminating enough to hold a hard conviction.

Hotch's phone buzzed and he put it to his ear.

"Hotchner."

"His father was killed by a truck driver as was his younger brother. From what we've gathered from the news article and some notes, we're pretty sure we knew what happened."

Hotch listened and nodded.

"Good work, Callahan. Link Garcia into Phillips' computer and then you and Reid can meet us back at the station."

After hanging up, he tapped on the window and Rossi stood, excusing himself politely.

"Can I get you something while I'm up?" He offered and Steven Phillips shook his head.

Once in the observation room, he looked at Hotch and Morgan.

"I think we're getting close. Do you have something?"

"His brother was killed in the same accident that killed his father."

"You think that he blames his brother for his father's death?"

"The victims could easily be surrogates. His brother died at nearly seven and it's unlikely that he would be able to find victims at that age that met his criteria."

"So he's lashing out at the closest he can get. All the victims are white males and despite the variation in socioeconomic status and risk level, they're all younger than him."

"What triggered this though? Reid said that he had practice kills before this, but he doesn't have a criminal record. No fires, no peeping, no animal cruelty or assault. He looks like a nice, normal guy. He either hid his psychopathy well or something set him off."

"Garcia can look through his records," Hotch said, and Morgan began punching in her office number before putting it on speaker.

"The office of detective extraordinaire."

"Hey baby girl, we're looking for the stressor that set this guy off. Can you take a look at him in the past year or so?"

"On it like a dressage rider, just give me a few seconds."

Through the speaker, typing and clicking was audible.

"No criminal records, no dismissal or demotion, his mother is still alive and well living in Florida but...oh."

"Oh?" Morgan asked. "That sounds like something."

"His childhood home has been on the market for awhile but what with the economy, there have been no takers until about fourteen months ago when it was purchased by a young couple with a baby on the way. I had to do a little digging for this because it's not officially on his record but I found the initial report squirreled away. It looks like Mr. Phillips came back to his house to get something his mother had left in the attic--the officer notes that it was his father's good suit--and when he got there and found out that the house was being gutted for remodeling and that all the attic stuff had been sent to the dump...well let's just say things got a little out of hand."

"How out of hand are we talking?"

"No violence, but a lot of shouting and some threats. The couple called 911 and after he was taken in they decided they didn't want to press charges and it was all a big misunderstanding."

Hotch leaned toward the phone.

"Garcia did anything happen to that couple or to the house?"

"There's nothing in records...I have all the forms checking that the renovations were up to code and it looks like they are...they got a rainfall shower in the master bathroom which sounds amazing."

"Thanks Garcia."

"Absolutely!"

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Morgan leaned against the doorframe.

"Something with an emotional connection to his father was destroyed but wouldn't it make more sense for him to take it out on the homeowners?"

"In his mind, without his brother, his father would still be here. A reminder that he has nothing left of him is probably what set him off."

Rossi nodded, "And I think I can get him to talk some more. His language thus far has been neutral--the victims were killed, fathers are important in a child's life, removing a father is a tragic loss for a child, what the victims suffered was nothing more than what they deserved. No confession yet, and he should be ready to spill everything, it's the kind of killer he is."

"You haven't established a rapport yet," Hotch replied. 

"What do you think I'm doing out here?" Rossi smiled. "I'm at the moment receiving a very upsetting phone call."

Putting his phone to his ear, he offered a grin to his coworkers before it twisted into a scowl and with that expression and the phone still to his ear, he began to shout before opening the door to the interrogation room.

 


	10. The Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rossi builds rapport, Reid has an epiphany, and the coffee is bad.

As Rossi opened the door to the interrogation room, he was already scowling and barked,

"Just do as you're fucking told," before hanging up abruptly. His dark brows pressed together and eyes flashing, he took a deep breath and blew it out while shoving his cell phone into his pocket. After a moment, he met Stephen's somewhat startled gaze.

"I apologize," Rossi said shortly. "Family troubles. My younger brother is...well it's not important. We were talking about you."

"I don't mind. I know how much of a pain family can be."

"Not mine," Rossi's frown deepened. "My brother is five years younger than me and you'd think as a grown man he could do a simple task, but he of course, managed to screw it up. All he had to do was go by the house while I was out of town and make sure that the cat was fed and the plants were watered. It's not rocket science--come by once a day and make sure the house is intact. Water the plants, check the cat's food and litter box. I could have hired a child to do it."

Stephen didn't respond and Rossi took another breath.

"Still, I shouldn't be telling you all this. We're supposed to be talking about your mission; he just really gets to me. He's going to get somebody hurt one day if he keeps this up and I'll be the one who has to clean up his mess."

"That's sort of what the mission is about," Stephen said.

"Oh?"

"These guys that...died. They were mess-makers. No more makers? No more messes."

"That makes sense, but I've looked at these files and you've got me stumped on these guys. Some of them absolutely needed to be cleaned up but others I didn't see it. I must be missing something."

"Some of them are more subtle," Stephen leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Like a mold," he continued. "You can't see it unless you know where to look, but there it is, slowly eating away at whatever it touches."

Nodding, Rossi also leaned forward. "Go on."

"The Romans had an idea where the father was the head of a household until the sons were legally of age to start their own households. He was the cleaner of messes, the figure who kept the peace, the lynchpin. So the worst thing you could do was break the lynchpin and the Romans had ways of dealing with those who did."

"The men who died...they killed their fathers?"

"Not in ways you would have noticed, but yes."

"They committed the greatest crime that a man can commit," Rossi said darkly. "They took life from the man who gave it to them."

"Yes." Stephen slapped his hand down on the table as he said the word, punctuating his remark with the sound. "Regardless of what else their fathers may have done, they are the creators of their sons."

"Regardless of what they do?" Rossi asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"The father is in charge and his word is law. It doesn't matter if you agree with it or not, it's your duty to follow it."

Rossi didn't say anything for a moment and Stephen's expression darkened in a flash.

"Do you not agree?"

"My father was a mean old bastard," Rossi said slowly. 

"It was his right." When the unsub said these words, however, it was through clenched teeth, a recitation. "He is the father and it is his right to do as he pleases."

"Did your father do as he pleased?"

"Whatever he did, he had a reason. And we deserved what was coming to us."

Instead of asking another question, Rossi waited. People filled silences as surely as air filled a room.

~~~~~~~~

The police station's coffee was terrible. This is a universal truth of public offices' coffeepots, but Reid found this particular pot to be particularly terrible. Adding yet another spoonful of sugar, he stirred it in and sipped, hoping for enough of a change to make the sludge tolerable. It wasn't. 

Giving up for the moment, Reid followed Callahan into the observation room where the window looked in on Rossi and the unsub. The four of them made the room a bit crowded and Morgan excused himself to go be useful elsewhere.

"Rossi's rapport is shaky," Reid remarked. "But Phillips seems to be accepting him for now."

"He hates his brother, he hates his father, he hates his brother for being involved in his father getting killed but he's not killing men that represent his father, he's killing men that represent his brother...why?" Kate watched through the window as Phillips began to speak again, his body reflecting an anger barely under control. 

"Rules," Reid responded, and after a moment, took a breath. "Oh."

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

"I'll be right back, let me check something."

"Reid."

"Just five minutes, Hotch. I need to be right about this or it will throw off any progress Rossi has."

 Callahan shrugged at Hotch as Reid's voice carried down the hall.

"Shannon, I need you to look at the notes you were sharing with me."

While on the phone, Reid looked at the profile on the whiteboard and erased two separate lines, circling one name and drawing an arrow. 

"Yes that part." He closed his eyes as she read it to him and nodded. "Thank you."

He rushed back to the observation room, already on the phone again, asking Garcia to do another search.

"We thought it was about his father and that's a part of it, but we've been missing a big piece. He's not a mission-based killer in the strictest sense. He's also an enforcer. He's punishing rule-breakers but the only reason we've noticed these victims is because of how flamboyant and specific the kills were."

"Reid get to the point."

"I think he's killed a lot more people. And the first one was his brother."


End file.
